


Julance 2018

by bitterglitter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Black Paladin Lance (Voltron), Dreams, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Galaxy Garrison, Homesick Lance (Voltron), Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, JuLance Challenge 2018, M/M, Prompt Fic, Red Paladin Lance (Voltron), Sibling Love, Weddings, it's lance's birthday month how could i not write something, tags will be added as prompts are filled out, veronica makes an apperance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-01 03:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15134330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterglitter/pseuds/bitterglitter
Summary: It's Lance's birthday month, Julance, so I'm writing a short fic everyday to celebrate.





	1. Day 1: Turtleneck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i love lance and coran's dynamic

Lance has never needed to buy a shirt more than he needs to buy this one right now. 

He’s pressing his whole face into the shop window, no doubt both smudging the otherwise perfectly clear glass and making himself into a spectacle all at once. But he’s not risking taking his eyes off the shirt in case it somehow disappears, so he ignores the many stares he feels on his back as aliens walk past. If he wasn’t so focused, he would hope they were staring because they recognize him as a paladin of Voltron, but he knows it’s because he’s currently trying to physically phase himself through the window. 

“Something caught your eye, my dear boy?” Coran’s voice cuts through the mall bustle behind him. A familiar hand lands on his shoulder, but he doesn’t turn to look. 

Lance makes a non-committed sound, lifting a shoulder in a half shrug. “I guess.”

“You guess?” Coran laughs, patting the shoulder he was just holding. “You’ve practically put a Lance-sized crack in the glass there. It seems like you like it more than a guess.”

Lance let’s out a long sigh, clouding up the glass around him, and pulls back so his nose is no longer smushed. “Okay, you got me. You see that blue turtleneck right there?” Lance points and Coran hums a yes. “I swear it looks just like a turtleneck I had back on Earth. I mean, the stitch pattern is obviously a little different, but it’s close enough and that color blue is the exact same shade.”

“Ah, is this perhaps another Earth shop?” Lance can see Coran’s reflection in the window lean back to peek up at the shop’s name. “Perhaps I should also browse and select some Earth clothes myself for if we visit in the near future.”

Lance can’t help but smile at that. Out of everyone on Team Voltron, Coran knows the most about Lance’s homesickness. Every so often he’ll mention Voltron visiting Earth one day, because even though the “if” makes Lance’s chest ache, just the mention of Earth comforts him. He also knows Coran brings it up because he’s fascinated about Earth culture as he is with most other cultures. 

“Nah, I don’t think it is. Other then what I’m pretty sure is a pair of jeans, the sweater is the only thing that looks like it’s from Earth.” Lance shakes his head. Most of the clothes up front for window display have a strange metal sheen that he’s never seen fabric have, so he’s pretty confident it’s not man-made. 

“The weird thing is,” Lance continues, “I didn’t buy that sweater back on Earth it was homemade. My grandma actually knit it for me. So it was super surprising to see something that looks so much like it this far out in space.”

Coran’s reflection nods. “It can be jarring to see reminders of home when we’re so far away, but we should always appreciate them. Are you planning on buying the shirt?”

Unable to help himself, Lance’s lips twist into a pout. “No.” Even though he tries to hide it, disappointment is clear in his tone. “I have half the GACs I need to buy it and they’ve posted a security guard at the fountain, so that route is a no go.” 

Still Lance smiles when he turns to fully face Coran. “But it’s whatever. I’ll go scout around for something else to get before we have to head back.”

Now it’s Coran’s turn to frown. “Well that won’t do at all. Here, this should cover it.”

He fishes around in his pocket and pulls out his own allowance of GAC for the trip. He offers it to Lance with an open palm.

“What? I can’t take your money! That’s for you to go and actually buy something that isn’t just for the castle!”

“Hm, that is true, but last I checked you’re Lance and not the castle.” Coran grins. “Now, either you take the money or I go in there and buy the shirt myself. And I don’t know how Earth clothing sizes work, so keep that in mind.”

Slowly Lance looks down at the money and back at Coran, wondering if accepting it is actually the right thing to do. Every part of him tells him not to take the money, but Coran’s expression is scarily like his grandmother’s when she’s determined to gift him something. “Alright, fine!” He opens a palm and let’s Coran dump the money into it. “But are you sure there’s nothing you want to buy? I hate taking your money, man.” 

Coran shakes his head, smiling once more. “I think I’ll be able to make it until our next Space Mall trip. But, if you do need some guilt relief, I could use a hand with some chores around the castle.” 

Later, when Lance is finally able to try on the turtleneck in his room, he decides any amount of chores Coran wants is worth it. The turtleneck hugs him and it feels just like a hug from home.


	2. Day 2 - Glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> veronica isnt in the show yet but i love her

“I won’t tell mom.”

For the first time in the entire conversation, Lance’s expression perks up. First worry, then guilt, now this. He’s still pouting in that way only a younger sibling can get away with, and he’s still slumped into the oversized chair, but his eyes widen in disbelief. 

“You won’t?” He all but gasps, and if Veronica wasn’t actually worried she would have burst out laughing at his expression. 

“I won’t tell mom...if you tell me why.” 

Lance’s expression immediately sours. 

Which is fine. They can sit in this kitchen all afternoon if they have to. Honestly, it’s helping Veronica avoid doing her homework, so the longer Lance drags this out the better. She would prefer wrapping it up before Mom got home so then they would actually have an explanation for why Lance’s brand new glasses are sitting broken in the kitchen table. She had caught Lance stuffing them under the bed, which was disappointing because she thought she had taught her brother better! Always close the door if you’re going to try to hide something in your room!

Well, he is six, so he’s got time to learn. 

“Come on, Lance.” Veronica sighs, leaning her elbows on the table exactly like Mom says they shouldn’t. “Just tell me why your glasses are broken and if it’s really that bad I’ll help you think of something else to tell Mom, okay?” 

Lance raises an eyebrow in disbelief, which almost makes her giggle because his baby-face shouldn’t look so serious, but he has a good reason to give her that look. Any other day and she probably would’ve immediately threatened to rat Lance out for something in return, but for some reason not today. Maybe it has something to do with Lance crying as he shoved his glasses under his bed maybe not. Who’s to say really?

“I don’t want to tell mom.” Lance grumbles, which is the only thing she’s gotten him to say since she sat him down. He crosses his arms over his chest, clearly tired of this back and forth.

“I  _ know _ , but  _ why _ ?” She groans, because Lance isn’t the only one that’s tired. “It can’t be that bad.” 

“Because I don’t want them!” Finally, Lance exclaims. He reaches out to shove the glasses further away on the table. “I look dumb in them and everyone laughed when I went to school with them and they laughed again when I tripped on the sidewalk and broke them!” 

Oh. That’s a pretty standard answer actually. If Veronica didn’t love her brother as much she’d be more annoyed with how hard it was to get him to say that. 

“Is that all?” Veronica asks before she can even stop to think if those are the right words to say. 

Lance’s eyes widen and his cheeks start to light up a bright red. “Yes! That is! So let me go and hide these so I never have to wear them again!” 

Veronica doesn’t even blink when Lance starts shouting. “And go through the rest of your life blind?” 

“I can see!” 

“I was at the eye doctor with you, you can’t fool me. Our Grandmother has better eyesight than you!” 

He huffs and drops back into his chair so hard it scoots across the floor. “You can’t make me wear them. It’s fun making people laugh, but I don’t like being laughed at. I hide them or I stay home in my room forever.” 

“Lance…” Veronica sighs. She wishes Luis was here to offer advice instead. He’s twelve, a whole two years older than Veronica, and wisdom comes with old age. Or so she’s heard. “It’s really not as bad as you think. Six-year-olds laugh at anything. I should know! It’s so easy to make you laugh.” 

“Hey!” 

“So who cares if they laughed at you?” Veronica shrugs. “They’ll find something else to laugh at tomorrow. But you know what? I bet if after we get these fixed, you walk in owning these glasses, by the end of the day everyone will want a pair of their own. You’ll be a- a trendsetter!”

As Veronica speaks she stands up and walks to Lance’s side of the table. She picks up the glasses and carefully places them on his face, cracked glass and all. It makes him look ridiculous, but she holds off on mentioning it right away. 

Lance squints up at her from behind the frames. “Really? You think so?” 

Veronica smiles. “I know so. Because you’re a McClain, and everyone wants to be like us. That’s why the Alana from next door keeps stealing my bike. So go back to school and wear these glasses like a McClain, confidentiality.” 

Lance smiles up at her. It’s a big, toothy grin even with one of his bottom front teeth missing, and he nods. And he keeps smiling the next day when they go to get him another pair.


	3. Day 3: Blue Paladin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dreams are wild man

Lance hates dreams that he can’t remember. 

They always leave a strange feeling in those few hazy minutes after you wake. Like a word on the tip of your tongue. Sometimes it bothers him throughout the day, sometimes it’s just a fleeting thought of “I had a dream last night” before completely forgetting it in his awareness. He hates it especially when it bothers him throughout the day.

It’s been happening more and more frequently. After being bumped up from cargo to fighter pilot mornings where it felt like the memory of a dream was just in his grasp happened more frequently. Lance started spending first period trying to remember instead of actually learning. 

When the dreams started he didn’t mind so much. They left him with a feeling of warmth as he woke up, like he was safely cocooned in blankets back home. Those days not even the grueling 8 am classes of the Garrison could dampen his mood. Recently, though, the dreams have left him restless. He’s starting to remember strange things. A glowing cave. Loud yelling surrounding him. A starry, unfamiliar sky around him. 

Lance doesn’t know it, but this will be his last dream. 

Above him is a vast night sky filled with stranger constellations. Below him is a smooth, flat ground colored white. Staring at him, several feet across from him, is a white lion. 

This is weird. That’s the best word Lance has for it. Insanely weird. 

Even though he can’t remember his other dreams, something tells him this is completely unlike all the rest. 

Lance slowly turns in a circle. The white stretches on into the horizon on all sides. Lance and the lion are the only ones here. As Lance realizes this the lion lets out a low noise. 

He’s not even all the way back around before the lion starts walking towards him. Even though Lance knows this is a dream he can’t help but jump back and somehow he tips over nothing, landing hard on the ground. This doesn’t scare off the lion, which why would it it’s an apex predator and Lance probably looks like lunch. 

He doesn’t know what to expect. He knows this is a dream, but control feels out of the question. Now the lion is at his feet. Something tells him this dream is going to turn into an Animal Planet nightmare. 

Lance shuts his eyes, hoping when he opens them, he’ll be awake in his bed. 

He isn’t. Instead he’s face to face with the lion, it’s breath ghosting against his face, and it’s….purring? That noise is probably purring? It sounds weirdly high pitched, but everything about this is weird. So, yeah, Lance is going to call that purring, and he’s going to call the way the lion presses its face under Lance’s chin nuzzling. 

“Oh, um, okay.” Lance fumbles, trying not to topple over with how hard the lion presses against him. “Good kitty? Nice man-eating lion?” 

The lion pulls back to look at him, and huh Lance is pretty sure lions don’t have blue eyes, before plopping down on his lap. When Lance doesn’t move, it looks up at him expectantly, purr stopping. Slowly, Lance reaches up to pet at it’s fur and the purring continues. 

He isn’t sure how long they sit there. Are dreams supposed to last this long? Lance isn’t sure, he just keeps petting the lion, and that feels right. It’s fur is unbelievably soft, but it isn’t warm. Instead it feels cold like metal left out in the snow. And now that Lance can see it up close he notices it’s fur isn’t completely white, instead it’s a strange hue of bluish-white that he can’t quite name. 

Eventually Lance lays down against the white floor and the lion settles completely on his lap. He closes his eyes, still petting the lion, and says “guess I’ll see you soon.” 

He doesn’t know why he says it. 

When he wakes up he’s in his bed and his alarm is going off. Hunk is already awake, halfway changed into his uniform, and Lance can’t remember a thing about his dream. 

The next time he will go to sleep will be in an alien castle and he won’t dream at all. 


	4. Day 4: Red Paladin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @dreamworks show me lance in red you cowards

“So, we obviously know I rock anything and everything, but I’m really starting to think red really is my color.” 

Lance does a slow turn in front of the mirror to look over his shoulder and yeah he  _ really  _ does look good in this suit at every angle. It had been a pain resizing it to fit exactly, but now that he’s wearing it he’s considering keeping it. “What do you think, Hunk?” 

“I think you taking Keith’s armor was a bad idea and you should change before he finds out.” 

Take is such a strong word, Lance thinks, as he twists one of the flight suit gloves into a better position. At worst he’s borrowing the armor, it’ll be back in it’s place before Keith is done with his usual mid-day work out brood. Well, used to be usual. Lance can’t remember the last time Keith actually went off to train alone, which is probably why no one said anything when he stalked off to do it after the latest briefing. 

This felt like the only time to safely snatch the suit, so he had taken the risk and just done it, no forethought needed. Well, some forethought. Just not in terms of planning how to take it without getting caught. For the past few days between battles Lance has been fascinated by the color purple his suit shines in the light of Red’s cockpit. A soft purple, almost pastel, and noticing that had led one thought to another until he started to wonder how he would look in red armor. 

Hence how he got here. 

And Keith will never know. 

Lance turns to glare at him and huffs when he sees Hunk hasn’t even looked up from his tablet. He wonders why he even invited Hunk into his room to do this. He wonders why Hunk agreed to do it. Recently there’s been this weird rift between them, small but slowly growing, since Lance switched to the Red Lion. Before they were the legs of Voltron, side-by-side from the Garrison into battle. Lance isn’t used to this distance. 

But it’s not like Lance can let Hunk know this. He doesn’t let his voice shake. “Oh come on! Don’t be a stick in the mud, I wanna get the whole Red Paladin experience!” Hunk still doesn’t look up. Something tightens in Lance’s chest, twisting just like his Mamma would soaked washclothes, and it settles right on top of his lungs. For a moment he can’t breathe, the air he sucks in getting caught in his throat, and then Hunk glances up and he almost chokes on how fast air can now breath in. 

“I’m not a stick in the mud, I’m the guy who doesn’t want Keith yelling at us for stealing his suit-”

“ _ Borrowing _ .”

“-because he’s been super high strung lately. And yeah,” Hunk gives a little shrug, waving a hand around in a circle, “you guys have been getting along better since this whole -  _ thing _ \- but that doesn’t mean we all forgot how some of your more intense arguments ended.”

“Hunk, Hunk, Hunk,” Lance puts on his best reassuring tone, feeling almost as confident as he sounds. For a second this conversation feels like it should. “Hunk, best buddy, light of my life, don’t worry so much. Keith and I aren’t like that anymore, we’re actually pretty decent at working together. And,” Lance’s voice drops, as if sharing a secret, “we all know how hard taking over as Black Paladin has been on him. On all of us. I wanna help relieve the stress, not cause it.” 

For the first time in what feels like actually a  _ really  _ long time if Lance stops to think about it (he doesn’t) Hunk gives him a genuine smile. “Yeah, I know. You’ve always been like that. I mean, usually not with Keith, but I remember you being the buffer for your whole family the first Family Weekend back at the Garrison.”

“I should’ve let Luis tackle Iverson like he wanted. Ah, well, live and learn.” 

Hunk solemnly nods. “Too true.”

Lance snickers, feeling lighter than he has in weeks.  _ This _ is what he’s been missing, this is why he’s felt so off balance for so long. He just hadn’t realized how drastically things had changed so fast. He was only piloting red for a few weeks, and he’s never been further away from Hunk. 

But now that he knows this is the issue, he can fix it. Sure, a lot of his time is going to acting as right-hand man to Keith, whether that be in battle or reassuring him in the kitchen at three in the morning. When his time isn’t dedicated to that, though, he’ll spend it with Hunk. Maybe Pidge too, they’ve been distant practically since they got here, Lance was just starting to break through her walls when they got lion-ed up into space. 

Lance is just about to suggest that they do something else, maybe see if they can resize Pidge’s armor to fit Hunk, or maybe play the video game that Lance  _ just  _ got working, anything to keep this easy feeling going, when Hunk’s tablet goes off. All of the words Lance was thinking about saying evaporate as Hunk opens to check a message. 

“Oh!” The twisting comes back when he sees Hunk’s eyes light up. “Pidge says she thinks she has the outer shell of the container finished. I gotta get down to the lab to test our new samples.” 

Confusion must show on Lance’s face because when Hunk looks at him he goes from excited to sheepish. “Oh, um, we’re working on some new high-tech bombs for the Blade. Apparently the ones they have keep going off early or the explosion isn’t strong enough, so they asked if we could design them something. I spent all night last night mixing stuff up to see what would blow up the best, so now we just have to make sure it won’t melt the outer casing and set it off early.” 

For a brief second Lance is back in the Garrison, chemistry class, first year. Hunk by his side, whispering notes that Lance misses because the teacher goes too fast, and Lance hyping him up for the next test. Bottles of chemicals lining the table between them, smoke rising from their Frankenstein-esque concoction, the teacher yelling at them over the fire alarm. 

And then he blinks and he’s back in his room. 

“Cool!” Is the only thing he can think to say. He hopes his smile is wide enough to be convincing. “You should totally show me once you guys work out the kinks.” 

“Totally will.” But Hunk is already looking back down at his tablet, typing a response. He’s halfway out the door when he remembers to call back, “see you later, Lance.” 

“Yeah, see you.” Lance calls back, voice weak. 

He’s staring down a his hands, twiddling his thumbs, trying to will the hurt in his chest away. Which is probably why he doesn’t hear that the door doesn’t close automatically like it should. And he doesn’t hear Keith say hi to Hunk in the hall. And he doesn’t hear footsteps stop in their tracks, squeaking against the floor. 

Well, all of this was fun while it lasted, but he should probably change. With Hunk gone it’s not as fun anymore and the longer he wears it, the more likely he is to get caught. He sighs, rolls his shoulders, and looks up, ready to get changed. 

Only to meet Keith’s wide-eyed gaze. Keith, who is standing in the middle of the hall. Keith, who can see that Lance is wearing his armor. Keith, who is red-faced from training and a little bit sweaty with a towel wrapped around his neck. Keith, who is  _ going to kill him.  _

A moment of silence passes. And then another. And then another. Lance can hear his heartbeat in his ears. 

“Is.” Of course Keith is the one to break the silence, all of Lance’s internal organs have rearranged and somehow his stomach is where his heart was and his heart is in his throat and his brain has just left the party completely. Keith points at him, like he can’t process what he’s seeing. “Is that my armor.” 

Lance opens his mouth. Closes it. Sucks in a breath of air through his teeth. “ _ Yes. _ ” He slowly nods. “...  _ But _ , it’s not your flight suit. Just your armor.” Like that somehow makes it better. 

“Oh.” Keith whispers. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool-”

He keeps muttering the word as he starts to walk past the door and towards his own room. Lance doesn’t move, but he can still hear Keith saying it over the woosh of Keith’s own door opening, and it only stops once the door closes. 

So, Lance reacts in the only way a mature Paladin of Voltron can. 

He picks up a pillow, shoves his face into it, and  _ yells.  _


	5. Day 5: Black Paladin Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the lion's have personalities and they're all women voltron is a giant woman and no one can convince me otherwise

He should be happy. 

Hell, he should be overjoyed right now. This is what he wanted. This is what he said he wanted more than anything. A year ago he would have jumped at the chance to do this, he was begging to do this. To be this. 

_ You wanted this.  _ He thinks to himself. 

Team Voltron has landed on a collision planet for the night. Travel has been slow since the Castle was destroyed and sleep has been far and few between. It had been like this for almost a month, making their way through space at what feels like a crawl compared to when they could warp. When they could they would stop at friendly planets to refuel and rest, but during periods when there was no place to stop in sight they would take shifts where two or three lions would tug the rest, the pilots of the lion’s being tugged resting for that short time before switching. 

Lance prefers days when they land on a planet. People are always more than happy to welcome them and more often than not being on a planet means he gets to sleep on an actual bed and not in his Lion’s pilot chair. Before he would have loved the constant celebrations thrown by the countless aliens they’ve met, but now it all feels hollow. He’s so tired, he can’t enjoy any of it. 

The planet they’re on now is a strange mix of forest and desert. The northern half of the planet is a vast, yellow desert, and the southern half a lush, green forest. The difference is like looking at the drop off a cliff. A unanimous vote had them staying on the forest side, but still settled near the line between plant and sand so they can also visit the tribes on the other half. 

From his Lion, Lance can see the tribe that’s taken them in. They have tents that rest up against the huge trees, the trunks rivaling the width of Voltron’s legs. Ropes hang from the branches of the trees that Lance has seen the aliens climb up and down easily, even the young children. Lance isn’t sure how he feels about a five-year-old being able to complete a simple high school gym exercise better than him, but he isn’t sure how he feels about anything right now. 

Lance peers over his consoul at the ground below, taking note of all his team members. He knows Hunk is showing some of the tribe’s engineers the workings of the yellow lion, they practically had stars pop into their eyes when he offered to. Pidge is currently fumbling around with one of the more intricate ropes hanging from the trees, clearly trying to figure out how to get up without having to climb. Shiro is near the biggest tent, small children swarming around him like flies to honey, but it looks like he’s trying to play with them instead of get away. Allura and Coran are following a small group of aliens who wear bright colors instead of the dark browns and greens the rest of the tribe does, they must be the leaders. 

Allura looks up at his Lion, and even though Lance knows there’s no way she can, he shoots back into his seat just in case she can see him. He knows he should be down there, meeting and greeting and playing his part. But instead he’s up here. Hiding. 

_ You wanted this.  _

He groans and throws his head back against the seat. The more he thinks that the more it sounds like his Mamma scolding him than it sounds like his usual self-deprecating voice. Though, he’s pretty confident that she wouldn’t scold him about this. At least not like that. If she were here she probably would-

No, no, nope, not doing that! He rubs at his eyes, trying to will those thoughts away. Let’s leave them for the bad dreams tonight instead. 

It’s been literal weeks of this and Lance isn’t any more used to being the Black Paladin than when he started. Well, he doesn’t feel like he’s going to be sick with nerves all the time, so that’s probably a start, but a lousy one. Lance can remember Shiro being gone and begging, practically on his hands and knees, for Black to chose him, and now that Black has all he wants to do is go back to Red. 

There’s a deep rumbling in the back of his mind, the closest Black ever really comes to talking to him. Sometimes he’ll get feelings and he can totally tell when Black is close, but there’s a strange silence that comes with her. Like maybe she’s holding back, or maybe he is. Something is between the two of them and Lance can’t tell what it is. He could always ask, he is the third Black Paladin in Team Voltron, so he has  _ two  _ people to ask for advice. But Shiro looks exhausted and is spending most of his time sleeping, apparently long-term death takes a lot out of you, and Lance doesn’t want to upset him any more than necessary. And Keith…

Well Lance can remember the expression Keith wore when Black wouldn’t open for him. When Lance went and jokingly knocked and was let inside. He couldn’t and still can’t name what that expression was, but it turned his stomach upside down and sets alarm bells off in his head when he even considers talking about any of this with Keith. 

“You know, you could give me some answers. I know you can hear my thoughts, why not open up a little bit? Game of twenty questions and all that?” 

The rumbling grows louder for a second and Lance has no idea what it means. It feels warmer than before, so maybe laughter? Or something close to it? When he was able to make Blue laugh she would make his whole body light up with her joy and that would make him laugh. Even Red gave more of a reaction. 

“Are you shy?” Lance continues in a gasp. “Is that it? Or is it like a trust issue thing? Cause, I get it, having a clone of your former paladin drive you around must be pretty upsetting… It’s pretty upsetting to have a clone lead you, so I can only imagine.” 

He slumps in his chair and the rumbling slowly starts to quiet. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve just been feeling- well, you know how I’ve been feeling. It’s not like I’ve been trying to hide it from  _ you _ . Anyway,” Lance picks up his voice, hoping that Black will follow suit, “back to twenty questions. Are you down for that? That doesn’t count as a question, by the way, I’ve learned I have to clarify that.” 

The rumbling pauses, as if Black is thinking, and then grows into something akin to a purr. 

Lance’s sour mood perks up at the idea of actually talking to Black. “Is that a yes? Cool! Okay, so I’ll start. Maybe you can light something up like a one flash for yes two flashes for no type deal. Okay, okay. So, are you actually shy?” 

He watches the console in front of him. Nothing happens for a minute and he’s just about to lose hope that this game is quickly going nowhere and he’s going to have to go back to wallowing, when a small green light flickers on. 

Lance sucks in a loud, over-exaggerated gasp. “You  _ are _ ?!” He doesn’t mean to shout, but the excitement of actually getting a response and finding out that the main Lion in Voltron considers herself  _ shy _ has stripped away some of his inhibitions for the moment. He’s practically bouncing up and down in his seat. “Oh my god, I love it, you’re shy? Aww, Black! And all this time I thought you might just not like me!” 

The purr in the back of his head is louder, closer. Like a cat curled up right next to him. 

“Hmm, I don’t know how you can ask me questions. Maybe if we work up to that somehow. Blue would always send me half formed thoughts, so maybe you can do something like that? But I guess this time I’ll ask the questions, okay?” 

The light flickers green again. 

“That wasn’t a question! That doesn’t count, does it-? No, no, not asking that!” Lance takes a deep breath, steadying himself. For a second it doesn’t feel like he’s on a far-off planet playing twenty questions with a sentient cat spaceship, but instead that he’s doing it with one of his older siblings, like when he was younger. They always thought it was funny to trick him into wasting his questions and they would get into really detailed discussions - arguments - about what counts as a question in the game or not. 

For the first time in a long time, the memories of his family don’t hurt. A wave of homesickness doesn’t wash over him, threatening to drag him under. Sure, there’s a slight pang, but Black is still purring and it’s still comforting. He leans back into the chair, into Black’s presence in his mind, and thinks of another question. 

_ You wanted this _ . He thinks.  _ And you can handle it.  _


	6. Day 6: Garrison Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's not a crush anymore, but at the garrison it was

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bold of you to assume lance hasn't always known he's bi

It didn’t start as a rivalry. 

Which is something Lance will never admit to anyone who isn’t Hunk because Hunk already knows because he was there to  _ witness it _ . So it’s not like he can lie and say it’s been a rivalry since day one, but he is thankful that Hunk hasn’t say anything to anyone else. Sure, some light teasing, but teasing that’s just vague enough that no one else has figured it out. 

No one else on Team Voltron can know Lance used to have a crush on Keith. A huge crush. A  _ giant  _ crush. A I-can-recognize-you-from-the-back-of-your-head-through-a-shitty-pair-of-binoculars-even-after-I’m-over-you type of crush. Embarrassing. 

It’s not a crush anymore, though. Lance is over it. He’s been over it. It’s been almost two years since it was a crush and Lance can remember exactly why it turned from a school-yard crush to an actually rivalry. Which it is. An actual rivalry, no matter what Keith says. 

Lance has known of Keith as long as he’s known Hunk. Hunk was the first person he met at the Garrison, being ushered to a room as an older student toured them around on their first day. Hunk was already in there, sitting at his own desk, and after a moment of awkward silence asked if it was okay he had already claimed the bottom bunk. Lance immediately decided they would be best friends and then they were. Are. It’s still a friendship that’s going strong. 

Keith, on the other hand, Lance didn’t officially meet until two and a half months after the first day of classes. Meeting someone and hearing about someone are two completely different things, and Lance thinks if he was able to meet Keith the first day then none of this would ever have happened. 

Hunk likes to loudly disagree when Lance talks about it, but Hunk doesn’t have a rival, so how would he know? 

The first day of class, at exactly 7:13 in the morning, Lance McClain learned of Keith Kogane. A boy who sat one seat to the left and two seats ahead of him and rarely looked back, but would sit with his chin leaning on a hand in just the right angle that Lance could see his face. Iverson had come in to scold this class, like he did every first year class apparently, about overall rules and what was expected of them like they hadn’t had orientation the day before. Lance thought he was going to die of absolute boredom, and when he looked around to see the rest of his classmates suffering the same way, he finally noticed Keith. 

He shouldn’t have noticed Keith. There was no reason to. He hadn’t done anything yet to stand out like he would in the weeks after with his grades and his less than stellar attitude with teachers. At the moment he was just another kid in a classroom of twenty. 

But something about him pulled Lance in immediately. 

Maybe it’s because he was so shockingly good-looking, because even a proud man like Lance can admit Keith was and still is good-looking. But there was also this crazy pretty girl near the front of the exact same class and it took about two weeks for Lance to notice her. 

Maybe it was the bad boy attitude, that Lance only now knows Keith isn’t fully aware he gives off. 

_ “I guess I never thought about it.”  _ Keith had said with a shrug.  _ “I just act like me.” _

_ “You literally drive a hover-bike and got expelled because you decked Iverson.”  _ Lance pointed out, which didn’t seem to make a difference. 

It could have been a million things, but whatever it was that got Lance looking it also made sure he couldn’t stop. 

Those two and a half months were first spent mostly staring at Keith whenever he was in the same room, which Hunk immediately caught onto. It turned into this weird teasing mixed with advice situation which means Hunk liked to laugh at how Lance couldn’t talk to Keith, but then would also try to encourage him to do it. 

Hunk is exactly the best friend Lance needs in life. 

But Lance couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was still young enough and awkward enough that he couldn’t talk to attractive boys or girls. He would get all flustered and his face would turn red and it was always just a mess. So, better to avoid it, he always thought. 

Until the first day of flight simulations. 

A small test to gauge their natural abilities. Everyone working to be a pilot, cargo or fighter, had to get up at five-thirty in the morning to go down to the flight simulator for the first time. It would be marked down as the first and last time Lance was excited enough that he didn’t mind getting up so early. He wasn’t even upset that Hunk got to sleep in. 

Him! In the simulation! Something he had been dreaming of since he was little and looked up at the stars for the first time after finding out that someday he could actually reach them if he tried. The first step to becoming a real pilot, no more pretending in extra cardboard boxes laying around like when he was little. 

He was practically vibrating when they lined up in front of the simulator.

That day would be the first time in the simulation, the instructor explained. They would be paired up with in groups of two and walked through how the simulator work and then would both complete a small, easy test one to see where their skills laid. And then for the next month they and their partner would work on improving their abilities together before going back into the simulation again to see how they had improved. 

Lance may have actually started vibrating as they listed off the names of partners. 

“...Lance McClain and Keith Kogane.” 

If Lance wasn’t still freaking out about finally being on track to be a pilot he would instead be freaking out that he was partners with Keith, who he had been staring at for two months and still wasn’t sure if he had gotten caught yet or not. He glanced down the line, spotted Keith several people to his left, and shuffled past people as names continued to be read out. 

Up close Keith seems different than far away. Something about his features are softer, even if he’s glaring at you. This is still true, two years later, and Lance still thinks it every time they get up close to each other. He’s used to this thought. 

Lance two years ago was not used to this thought. 

He’s startled by it, but tries not to let it show. If his Grandma had taught him anything, it was that first impressions are vital. So instead he smiles as brightly as possible and sticks out his hand. Somehow he gets out, “hi! The name’s Lance.” 

Keith looked down at his hand, and then back at him. His expression was almost completely blank, like it would be that poliet blankness you wear when meeting a stranger or your parents try to make you talk to an aunt you haven’t spoken to in ten years if Keith knew how to make that face. He took Lance’s hand, but instead of saying anything near the realm of what Lance was taught you should say in this situation, he said, “I know, Mr. Harris just said that.” 

“Oh…” Lance let his hand drop, completely off balance by that. This was nowhere near how he expected any of this to go. 

But Lance didn’t need to think of a way to continue the conversation, because Keith had it taken care of. He turned from Lance and raised his hand. “Mr. Harris? I don’t need a partner for this, I’ve practiced piloting before.” 

Mr. Harris, who otherwise looked completely uninterested in anything any student had to say, put on a smile that clearly showed his detachment from the situation. What he said sounded surprisingly rehearsed. “I know, Keith, I’ve been informed. But a partner is required for first year cadets to be in the simulator, no matter how much practice you’ve had.” 

Keith face fell, looking like he had bit into a sour lemon, and turned to Lance. “I know what I’m doing, just try not to get in my way.” 

And Lance’s heart plummeted to his stomach. A crush it was no more, in that moment he thought a single thought. 

_ I won’t get in your way, I’ll be better than you.  _

And now, when Lance’s heart beats too fast around Keith, or he finds himself tripping over his words, he remembers that moment. And he remembers it’s not a crush anymore. 


	7. Day 7: Formal Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> allura gets married and lance is choked up

The tie lasts just before the ceremony was actually over. 

Which is pretty impressive, if you ask Lance. It’s a definite upgrade from when he first started wearing ties, which was for picture day when he was six, and he had thrown the offending piece of cloth across the room right before he walked up to actually get his photo taken. It still feels too snug, just like before, but instead of full out flinging it away he loosens it up enough that hopefully he can get away with it. 

From the look Keith shoots him, he’s not. 

Keeping his voice down as low as possible, because this is exactly the event that is Mamma will  _ actually literally  _ kill Lance for talking at, he leans over to Keith and whispers in his ear, “don’t give me that look, at least mine isn’t clip on.”

He pulls back and tries not to laugh when Keith sticks the tip of his tongue out at him. 

Both of them flinch when something hits the back of their chairs. Several people around them glance over, a question in their eyes, but Lance gives his practiced  _ “nothing to see here”  _ smile. He can’t tell if it actually works, or if they look away to look back at the ceremony. Lance sighs in relief when eyes are no longer on him and turns to glare behind him at Shiro, who he finds is pointedly looking past them, a small, knowing smile on his face. 

Lance sees Keith stick his tongue out slightly again at Shiro only for Shiro to once again kick his chair. He looks at them, his eyes saying  _ “pay attention”  _ like they do when they goof off during mission briefing. 

Not willing to risk getting caught, Lance turns back around and tries to start paying attention again. Who knew wedding ceremonies took so long? Well, Lance did, he’s been to more weddings than he can count. Lots of cousins and aunts and uncles will do that to a kid, but it’s been a long while since he’s been to his last one and he had almost forgotten. 

And apparently Altean weddings take even longer. 

Before the wedding, back when everyone was figuring out what the perfect blend of Earth and Altean culture would be for the event, Allura had listed several traditions she could remember from weddings she had attended. Most, unfortunately, couldn’t be replicated because they were specifically tied to the planet Altea. 

Lance’s heart still aches when he thinks of Allura’s face when she realized this. 

Some things they were able to do, though it wasn’t exactly the same. On Altea brides wore a rare breed of juniberry flowers as a crown, but instead they used violets, which also was the primary flower they used to cover almost every surface in the building. On Altea they also have a special ceremony where they get water from each person’s home and mix them together and pour each other a glass of the water, a symbol of something important that Lance can’t remember at the moment. 

But he knows he’s going to remember this. Remember the way Allura is glowing as she pours a glass of water, and remember the smile his sister Veronica wears as she takes a sip. 

It’s almost been three years since Voltron returned to Earth and since Allura had met his sister. It’s been about two year since he found out that Allura and his sister had a long-distance relationship. It’s been half a year since they got engaged. And all of this time Veronica is as happy as Lance has ever seen her. 

If anyone deserves to marry Veronica, it’s Allura. And in the speech he’ll be giving at the reception later in the day, he’ll say he’s glad that if couldn’t have Allura then Veronica had gotten her. He’ll mean it, and he knows it’ll make Veronica laugh because it was the first thing Veronica had said to him after he found out her and Allura were dating. 

But for now he watches, basking in the happiness of his sister and one of his best friends. 

By the end of the ceremony, the tie is completely off. Lance has stuffed it in Keith’s pocket, mostly because Keith couldn’t fight him off without causing a scene. No one is willing to risk the wrath of Mamma McClain or Veronica  _ or  _ Allura today. A dangerous combination indeed. At the reception when Veronica notices she laughs and reminds him of sixth grade picture day. His Mamma doesn’t say anything but straightens out his shirt to make up for it. 

The reception is  _ wild.  _ Sure, the whole McClain family is here, practically everyone Lance has ever met from his family, but this is the first wedding where the McClains have had to mingle with aliens. 

From his spot at one of the tables Lance can see how drastically different everyone is, but how it also feels so right. 

The dance between Veronica and Allura has already ended, so the dancefloor has somehow turned into a dance battle zone where Veronica is currently beating Shiro in a dance battle. Several older Blade of Marmora members are mingling around him, including Kolivan who Krolia had to drag away from the corner of the room to actually talk to people. 

Hunk is currently trying to explain the act of a bride tossing flowers in the air to Shay a few tables down and Lance can see Shay’s brother hoarding food at the buffet. Pidge is animatedly talking to Allura, a pink alien with an extra set of eyes that she introduced as her partner standing by her side. Coran has gotten his hands on an Earth camera and is taking pictures of anything and everything, something Lance is excited to see how it turns out. 

To anyone else this would be the strangest wedding reception they’d ever seen. But Lance couldn’t imagine it any other way. After everything he’s seen, a wedding of just humans sounds weird to him. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Keith asks as he walks up from behind Lance and sets a cup of soda on the table. He leans one hip against the table and takes a drink from his own cup. 

“Mmm,” Lance hums, picking up his own cup. “All of this. How happy Veronica and Allura are. How I’m glad that everyone was able to come. How no one is ever going to beat my sister at dancing so it’s funny but also a little sad to watch you all try. You?” 

“Well…” Keith trails off, trying to hide his smile behind his cup, but Lance knows his face too well now. The way his eyes softly light up, even with a small smile, and the way he ducks his head just in case. “I was thinking about how I’ve had to endure a week of Shiro teaching me how to properly slow dance and I still don’t know exactly how to ask you onto the dancefloor with me.” 

For a moment Lance let’s himself imagine Shiro teaching Keith to dance. They probably did it while Lance was out helping with last minute arrangements. Keith probably stomped on Shiro’s feet so many times, Lance can’t believe Shiro is out on the dancefloor now. He almost laughs at thinking about Keith pouting, frustrated, as Shiro drags him around the room in a half attempt at dancing.

He looks over to the dancefloor. The dance-off has apparently ended and Veronica and Allura are once again in the middle, swaying gently to the music, foreheads pressed together.

“Oooh. Is that why Shiro was over, unannounced, two days ago after I came home from the store?” Lance asks, leaning forward in his chair. 

Keith’s cheeks flush slightly and he ducks his head even more. “Well, uh, yeah.” 

“All week, huh? And would I be agreeing to dance with you to make it up to you that you had to learn to dance or to make it up to Shiro that he had to be the one to teach you?” Lance grins into another sip of soda. 

Keith looks up again to glare at him, but it’s still a painfully soft look. “You’d be dancing with me because you love me. And a little bit to both, but mainly because you love me.” 

“Oh, well, if it’s because I love you, then  _ I guess _ .” Lance rolls his eyes, trying to sound very put upon, but he can’t keep his huge grin off his face. “I suppose I can sacrifice one dance to prove my feelings for you.” 

They both start snickering because they can’t help it and surrounded by all this love has Lance feeling a little dopey with love. All he wants to do is rest his head on Keith’s shoulder and stay here forever, in this one moment. Surrounded by everyone he cares about, in the safest place in the universe. And, by the way Keith smiles at him, Lance thinks he might be feeling something like that too. 

“I don’t know why I’m asking you anyway.” Keith continues, because they can’t stay in this moment. He sets his cup down, and pats the pocket Lance’s tie is in. “You’re not even wearing a full suit, I don’t know if I should be seen with you on the dance floor.” 

Lance barks out a laugh and reaches up to pull Keith’s hair out of its short ponytail before he can be stopped. He dangles the hair tie in front of Keith’s face, who looks properly scandalized. “There. Now you’re hair is terribly informal. We match. You can once again be seen dancing with me.” 

Keith laughs in disbelief for a moment. Then he reaches up and takes the hand that Lance is holding the hair tie in and lances their fingers together. With a swift tug, he’s leading them over to the dance floor just as a slow song starts. 

Lance laughs too, heart light, almost floating on air. He can hear the words his Mamma said to him years ago when he formally introduced Keith as his boyfriend. Somehow they seem closer to the truth than ever. 

_ Well, Lance, are those wedding bells I’m hearing? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> veronica mcclain is a lesbian and will instantly win allura's heart is s7 mark my words


	8. Day 8: Altean Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not the last alteans anymore

Lance knocks on Allura’s door because he doesn’t know where else to go. 

It’s probably not a smart idea, given that they had only met a few hours ago and it was probably one of the worst first impressions he’s ever had. Sure, he’s gotten some less than stellar responses from flirting, but this one easily made its way to the top of his list. It was a reaction he expected less from an Altean princess and more from his sister Veronica-

He quickly kills that train of thought by knocking on Allura’s door. The threat of getting yelled at by her is easily better than trying to process anything else about this day. The knocks echo and Lance flinches.

It takes a second, but the door does open, so this is already going better than he had planned. He straightens out his shoulders just like his Mamma told him to do when speaking to someone important. This might be one of the most important people he’s ever going to speak to, so he kind of really needs this second impression to go well. 

Allura is already changed in what Lance guesses are her pajamas which consists of the nicest robe and sleeping gown he’s ever seen. Even though she looks ready for bed her eyes are still wide awake, which is worrying by itself, but Lance is more glad he didn’t wake her up. 

“Hey, uh, Princess.” Probably not on first name basis yet. 

Allura slowly looks him up and down. Her lips are pressed tightly together and her eyebrows slightly furrowed, but her eyes aren’t as cold as earlier. She clears her throat and nods, face slipping into something much more neutral. “Ah, yes. Lance, was it?” 

“Yep, that’s me. Lance, Blue Paladin, all that.” His mouth can’t stop making unnecessary words. “I, uh, needed to talk to you about something. Would it be cool if I-?” He gestures to himself and then to her room. 

She raises an eyebrow, like she’s checking to make sure he’s actually serious, before sighing. “Well, I was hoping to get some sleep, but I think I’ve had enough of that to last me quite a while. I suppose you may come in for a moment, is something bothering you?” 

Lance can’t help but stare up at the room around him as he follows her in. It’s obviously a lot nicer than his own room, royalty hello, and everything feels so familiar and alien at the same time it’s throwing him off balance. “Ah, yeah you could say that, I guess. It’s just something I think you should really really know and I feel kind of bad about not telling you already? Like, there wasn’t really a good time to do it, but I think I probably should have tried to find one anyway? I guess I couldn’t shout it over the communicator while we were fighting those Galra, but maybe after you woke up, but that must have been a lot to take in so that was a no go-”

Allura is staring and Lance forces himself to swallow the rest of his words. There’s nothing in her eyes to tell him what she’s feeling and now Lance is really just sort of wishing he had written it down on a piece of paper and shoved it under her door. 

“Sorry, I’m rambling.” Lance tries to laugh, but it sputters and dies before it can even take off. “It’s just, I’ve never told anyone this before, so it’s kind of freaking me out?” 

Finally, Allura’s eyes soften. The entirety of Allura softens, if just a bit. She lets her shoulders drop and takes a few hesitant steps forward, reaching a hand out to place on his arm as if they were friends instead of strangers. “It’s quite alright, Lance. After today, I don’t think there’s much you can say that would surprise me, so please don’t feel the need to hide it.”

“Oh, yeah, you’d think that.” Lance actually does laugh. “Just… can I ask you something first? And, this relates, I promise.” 

“All right, what is it?” 

“Was there an evacuation of Altea? When Zarkon attacked?” 

Allura flinches back, face paling at his question, but she doesn’t let go. Instead her nails dig into his arm through his shirt. “... There was. But we had no warning to Zarkon’s attack and I was… The ships hadn’t taken off by the time I was asleep, but as far as I know it was impossible for anyone to escape.” 

“See, that’s uh, the thing. I don’t think it’s that impossible.”

Allura’s face immediately darkens and,  _ wow _ , Lance can really feel her fingernails digging into his arm now. She takes in a shaky breath, jaw tightening. “Lance, as much as I…  _ appreciate  _ your interest in Altea, this is not the time to be asking such questions. I must ask you to leave now-” 

For how hard she’s clearly trying to keep her composure in her tone, she has no trouble pulling him towards the door, ready to throw him wait. “Wait, wait, wait!” Lance tries to speak over her as he stumbles along. “I’m not- that’s not what I’m- just  _ look _ !” 

It always feels like this when he does it. Like changing from a suit into you casual at-home clothes. Like falling into your bed after a long day. Like laying back on the cool sand on the cool sand of Varadero beach, the waves lapping at his feet. Like he’s completely him again, who is always supposed to be. 

He can’t look at Allura’s reaction, instead staring down at his shoes. Her gasp tells him enough, the way she drops his arm tells him enough. He knows what he looks like to her, the two bright blue marks under his eyes. He knows what this means to her but not what it  _ means  _ to her. “This,” he says softly, “is why I’m pretty sure it’s not impossible.”

 

They don’t tell the team right away. 

The castle is programmed to be night, mostly because almost everyone was exhausted so Coran went ahead and programmed the time to let everyone rest. Internal clocks mean nothing in the face of intergalactic war battles. So, they have the whole castle to themselves to hash this whole thing out. Allura picks the lounge to do it in. 

Coran is currently poking at him. Not with anything medical, just literally poking at him in different places. Touching his hair, pulling at his skin, staring into his eyes. He even asks if he can look at Lance’s teeth like he’s some sort of show dog. 

Lance is too tired to object to most of it, but he draws the line there. 

“I- I don’t understand.  _ How _ is this possible? Altea is destroyed, I can’t find it on the maps. I remember the- the- I remember it.” Allura had grabbed his hand in the bedroom and hasn’t let go since. “Even if Alteans did survive, if they did on Earth their genes shouldn’t be this prominite.” 

“That’s the thing, Alteans haven’t been on Earth long.” Lance shakes his head, ignoring Coran who is currently pulling on his left ear. “My grandmother is a full-blooded Altean. Pointy ears and all. My mother is half altean and I’m- well, you get it. The genetics are a bit weird. My sister Veronica has pointier ears than me, but her marks almost blend into her skin. Luis has the most human ears out of all of us and Marco’s marks stretch out longer than any of ours.” 

“But Altea existed 10,000 years ago. No Altean could survive that long, no bloodline could.” 

“You did.” Lance points out. “My grandmother loves telling me this story. She was there when Zarkon attacked, she was on an evacuation ship. Just as it was breaking the atmosphere, she says someone placed her in a cryopod and ejected it. She says she remembers explosions and rooms filled with smoke, so she doesn’t think the ship made it out. 10,000 years later she wakes up, the pod having crash landed on Earth. She meets my granddad, and bam! Human and Alteans together.” 

“Incredible.” Coran says right beside him, finally sitting down and stopping his kind of medical exam. “I stayed awake just a bit longer than you, Princess. I remember reports coming in that ships were being blown away before they could escape. I never thought that the pods themselves would make it out in one piece.” 

Lance shrugs, squirming under the weight of their gazes. “Maybe my grandma’s just lucky. She always does better on lottery tickets than the rest of us.” 

“And your shapeshifting ability?” Allura asks, seemingly not hearing everything he’s saying. “Do all of your siblings possess it?” 

“Yeah! Some of us aren’t as good at is at the others, but I’m a natural.” Lance grins and puffs his chest out. His grandma always told him how he could disguise himself as the best human out of all his siblings. 

“I wonder if it extends to creatures besides human. Allura and I have a knack for it, but how many species could you blend in with?” Coran starts rambling, but Lance can’t hear any of it over how Allura is staring at him. 

“Do you know what this means, Lance?” Allura asks, voice just above a whisper. Her free hand reaches up to take his other, clasping them together. It’s warm and sends a shiver down Lance’s spine. 

“Um, that I don’t have to keep up the human look forever?” 

She leans forward, so close he can feel her breath on his face. This is nothing like the Princess Allura he had met a few hours ago, hurt and trying to stay in one piece. “This means that Altea is not completely lost. We are not the last ones.” 

“Hey, are you crying-?” Lance doesn’t finish asking as Allura darts forward and wraps her arms around his neck. He can feel her shaking, but if it’s from sobs or from how overwhelming this entire day has been, he can only guess. The only thing he can do is wrap his arms around her too and hold her close. 

Lance always hated pretending to be human. Shifting all the time, learning stories about his family he could never share. His Mamma told him it was like a superhero’s secret identity, but even superheroes get to save the day. When he was very young he would constantly beg to be able to tell at least one friend, not understanding why he couldn’t. Every adult gave him the same answer: it’s complicated. 

But as Lance holds the Princess from his lost civilization, he feels like this is much more than complicated. 


	9. Day 9: Lance's Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lance really needs a hug from his mom

It feels weird sitting in Red’s cockpit in his civilian clothes.

It feels weird having civilian clothes. At least, it feels weird on Earth. Out in space it was so much easier to detach from the idea. Out in space the war is always going on, there’s never an end only breaks. On Earth, all of it seems so far away.

Lance can see the stars. From here to an untrained eye they look like all the other stars in all the other galaxies they’ve seen. But Lance has memorized all of the stars and the constellations specific to Earth. It’s a relief seeing them all again, he relaxes into the feeling like it’s a warm blanket. There’s still a war going on out there, but here Lance feels safe.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting in Red’s cockpit. It was dark when he sunk out of his room, like he was a little kid and into red and it’s still dark now. No sunrise in sight. So, he reasons, he should have more than enough time to sneak back in without worrying anyone.

Ever since he came home a week ago he hasn’t had a second alone. Not that it’s a bad thing. The castle had been his only home since he had gone to space, but it was so big and filled with so few the hallways always seemed lonely. He’s missed the comforted chaos of so many people in one house. He can’t take a single step without bumping into someone and, god, he’s missed it.

But it’s slightly suffocating at times. Going from being at a distance with everyone to having at least one person clinging to you at all times in a second feels like jumping into a cold pool. From the moment he knocked on his door a week ago to now someone has always been with him. Nieces and nephews clinging to his legs, his Mamma hugging him whenever he walks by, one of his siblings always having a hold on his arm or shoulder or wherever they can grab. It’s disorientating.

He used to have to hunt down people to hang out with. Now he has to hunt down places to take a breath.

The problem is he’ll miss it, when he’s gone. Which is probably why guilt threatens to suffocate him when he thinks about getting away for a moment to himself. He’ll miss it. He’ll hate that he didn’t take every moment to be with his family. He’ll regret his _selfishness._

Lance tugs his hoodie over his head and slouches into it, trying to hide from those thoughts. Blue would always comfort him when he started spiraling like this, but Red is more hands off. Just being near her both helps and hurts and Lance hates himself for it.

The air around him is quiet, no regular sounds of night able to sneak in past Red. Only Lance’s breathing and the soft beeps from Red’s control panel keep him company. Which is probably why he jumps a foot in the air when a door behind him opens.

In space, Lance would react like a Paladin. Bayard drawn, up and in fighting stance, just in case. On Earth, he reacts like a kid caught in a cookie jar, sinking into his seat and pulling the strings on his hoodie to hide his face.

There isn’t a need to check who it is, Lance already knows.

“Leonardo.” His Mamma whispers his name, the same way she whispered a prayer as she hugged him before he left for the Garrison. It’s the only name she calls him by since he came home. One day he came home and asked to be called Lance, and she had agreed to it, but he hasn’t heard her use that name once in the past week.

“Mamma.” He isn’t sure if she’s here to scold him for sneaking out and scaring him. Before he it would have for sure been that, but now a days he isn’t sure of anything anymore. “What are you doing here?”

She hums softly, footsteps echoing in the cockpit as she approaches. She stops at his chair, but doesn’t touch him. “A mother can always tell when a child is out of bed, you know that.”

Lance coughs out a wet laugh and pulls back his hood to peek out at her. “Could never get anything past you, huh?”

His mother isn’t looking at him, she’s staring straight ahead, out of Red’s window and up at the stars. Not for the first time this week Lance is struck by how much she’s changed. Overall she looks how he remembers and her hugs are still warm and she still smiles softly at him when he comes downstairs in the morning. But now her smiles are accompanied by teary eyes and there’s a furrow in her brows that wasn’t there before. Her hair, the same dark brown that Lance’s is, is streaked with grey. And there’s bags under her eyes that Lance doesn’t remember seeing before.

She looks exhausted.

Everytime Lance thinks about it his throat starts to close up and his eyes start to sting. It’s his fault. Even though no one will directly say it, no one will yell it at him like he deserves, he knows that this is his fault.

“None of you can.” His mother agreed with a little nod of her head. “It’s so I can keep you four safe and out of trouble. It’s my job to always know where you are.”

Lance doesn’t say anything about her voice cracking and she doesn’t say anything about the tears in his eyes.

“It is also my job to know when something’s wrong. So, Leonardo,” she turns to him and cups his cheek with her hand, “what’s wrong?”

He’s imagined this conversation before, it’s practically all he’s been thinking about since his first day back. He was never sure when or where or even how he’d tell her, but he imagined something calmer. Maybe somewhat heroic, telling his mother he would have to go back into space to continue to fight for freedom throughout the universe. Or maybe he’d do it somewhere comforting, in soothing tones at the same place on the beach that she would take him when he was younger.

But now that he’s had time to be at home and unwind the exhaustion of fighting a war has settled deep into him. It’s soaked through his skin right to his bones and left him shaking and fragile. He can’t have this conversation right now, not with his mother. It’s obvious from the way that instead of a response a sob bubbles up from his chest. He tries to bite back the next one, jaw clenched so tight his teeth ache, but it’s no use.

He hadn’t imagined sitting in Red’s chair, his mother sitting next to him, holding him so close he’s half in her lap. She’s whispering, softly, in Spanish, running her fingers through her hair, but he can’t make a word of it out. He thinks she might be shaking too, but he can’t tell.

Outside the ship it’s still dark when he’s finally calm enough to look. His whole body is still shaking so hard his teeth are chattering, but at least he can somewhat breath again. Pressed against her chest, he can hear his mother’s heartbeat loud and true over the blood rushing in his ears. He could fall asleep right here, and never wake up.

“I don’t want to go back.” Lance forces himself to whisper, because he knows he can’t stay here all night. Each word takes up more energy than he has to give, his eyelids droop closed. “I can’t.”

His mother starts humming, a lullaby from long ago that Lance can’t remember the name of. Her fingers tighten in his hair.

“I’ve missed so much here. All of you. I- even at the Garrison, it wasn’t this bad. I don’t think I can do it again. Out there it’s- I don’t know if- I-” _almost died_ he finishes in his head. She can never know. No one in his family can ever know how for a moment out there he was dead, before Allura pulled him back. They can never hear a word of it.

It still shakes him to his core.

“I know, I know.” She whispers even though they both know she doesn’t — she never will know anything close to it — because it’s what Lance needs to hear. “Oh, my sweet, sweet boy, I know you don’t want to leave. You never did. I still remember you trying to get me to talk you out of going to the Garrison because you didn’t want to leave us.”

She lets out a laugh and somehow it’s the brightest thing he’s ever heard. “Your dream since you were a boy, and you were too worried about all of us to dive in head first like you should’ve. Scared that we’d need you, scared of the events you’d miss, of the memories you wouldn’t be apart of. But I didn’t these worries overtake you, because you can’t let us hold you back.”

Gently, she pushes him away just enough so that he can look up at her. She smiles, dampened with sadness but still loving. “You have to go back. You know it, all of us know it. No one holds it against you. It’s not just about our family anymore, it’s about the universe. And if I could I would never let you leave the house again. After spending all that time thinking you were lost to us forever, I never want to let you out of my sight.”

His mother sighs, brushing his bangs back from his forehead. “But I’m not that selfish, and I know you aren’t either. I raised you to not be. So, go, save the universe. Come back when you can, try to send messages.”

“I will, Mamma.” Lance’s voice cracks and he quickly nods. “I will. I’ll send messages all the time, you’ll get sick of them.”

“Just promise me one thing, Leonardo.” She stares into his eyes, already searching for the truth of this promise. “Promise me you’ll come back to me. You’ll come back alive and okay.”

 _I died out there, Mamma._ The unspoken words are just on his lips, tingling and painful.

“I promise, Mamma.” He says instead, and lets her pull him in again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> or did we all just forget he literally died for a sec in red @dreamworks


	10. Day 10: Varadero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he got in!!!!! i'm a proud mother

When Lance was little, he never thought he would leave Varadero. 

Sure, he often had his dreams and his head up in the stars, wishing he could walk among them, but deep down he never actually thought he would leave his hometown. His whole world amounted to Varadero. His cousins down the block. His school a ten minute walk from his house. The beach he would spend his afternoons at with his sibling and friends at everyday after school. His front yard, overflowing with fruits and flowers and vegetables in his mother's garden. 

These are the places that all amounted to home in Lance’s head. These are the places he would be with forever. Space was a dream, a nice dream, but a dream. 

He never imagined being more than at most a half an hour away from his Mamma, the same distance his big brother Marco had moved after he got married. Or that his high school years wouldn’t involve walking past Mr. Ramon’s shop every morning and buying a quick snack to save for lunch like he did in middle school. Or that he wouldn’t earn extra money babysitting his cousins in between finishing homework and teaching swim lessons. 

Right now, though, it doesn’t seem like any of that will happen like he planned. 

Lance has been sitting, frozen, at the desk in the room, for probably a solid decade. It feels like that at least. He’s never going to move again, he’s sure of it. His family will find his frozen body here and he’ll have to be buried in this exact pose and it’ll have to be closed casket because he looks ridiculous-

“Hey, Lance, did you borrow my toner, because Luis says he saw you go into — hey, are you okay?” Veronica doesn’t bother to knock, she never bothers to knock and Lance is used to this. She doesn’t knock, he yells about privacy, she teases him. It’s a routine. He doesn’t move. 

“Lance?” Veronica tries again, walking over. She reaches over and snaps her fingers in front of his face, but he doesn’t move. He’s still staring down at the paper in his hands. “Hey, did something happen? Was it Oliver again? Because his mom said he’d stop sneaking over into our yard and if he did I get to go yell at her, which I would  _ love  _ to do.” 

He should move. Tell Veronica. Say something. 

_ Closed casket  _ is all he can think. 

Softly Veronica gasps, and he knows she’s finally seen the name on the top of the letter he’s holding. “Oh, Lance—” her tone is already pitying, having assumed the news from his reaction. 

“I got in.” He whispers, shock finally settling into his system instead of seizing it up. Slowly, he looks up, eyes still wide. 

Veronica mirrors his expression. “What?” 

He holds the paper up for her to see. “I- I got in. I got accepted into the Garrison.” 

They stare at each other and,  _ great,  _ this is how the whole family will find the both of them. The next moments go by in a blur. One minutes he’s sitting in his chair and the next Veronica has him up in the air, feet off the floor, spinning him around in a hug. She squeezes the breath out of him, laughing as she shouts, “He got in! He got in!”

They’re still spinning and Lance can’t help but start laughing too. It’s shaky, high pitched, nothing like his usual laugh. Together, they sound borderline hysterical and loud enough that Lance wouldn’t be surprised if someone came over to see who in the McClain household had finally lost their mind. 

Veronica abruptly sets him down, almost sending him sprawling to the ground, the only thing keeping him stable is her hands on his shoulders. Her eyes are bright and wild with excitement. “My little brother is going to be a fighter pilot! That’s so cool! Oh  _ my god,  _ Leonardo!” 

“What the  _ hell _ are you two screaming about?” Lance turns to see Luis standing in the doorway, headphones around his neck and still blasting music. “Some of us are trying to write an essay.” 

“I got in.” Lance holds up the letter as Veronica shouts “he got in!” 

Luis’ eyes widen and he looks between the two of them, searching for whatever joke this could be, before whispering, “you fucking got in?” 

“ _ Luis _ !” Their Mamma shouts from downstairs, somehow hearing them even though there’s a floor between them. That’s real magic right there, always has been, always will. 

“Mamma!” Luis calls back, voice pitched up into a whine. “It’s not my fault, Lance and Veronica surprised me!  _ Mamma _ !” He’s already heading towards the stairs, but he’ll actually congratulate Lance later. 

Veronica pulls Lance along, following Luis to the top of the stairs. She’s practically vibrating with excitement, making up for Lance’s shell shocked reaction. It makes sense that she’s reacting like this. She had been the one that helped him study all those months of the entrance exam, she proofread his essay before he submitted it, it was her door he would show up to when his stress would bubble over some nights. 

She was the one that would sit up on the roof with him at night when he was little and watch the stars with him. 

Their Mamma stands at the foot of the stairs, hands on her hips, frowning up at them. “What exactly is going on up there?” 

Lance takes a deep breath, holds up his paper, and beams down at his Mamma. “I got in.” 

He’s going to the Garrison, a dream no longer. 


	11. Day 11: Team Voltron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance just wants to help

Lance’s lip is split, his nose is still gushing blood behind the tissues stuffed in it, and he’s this side of a concussion. 

All in all, he could be doing better. But the healing pods are down and he can’t just sit around and wait for full power to return to the castle. So here he is, up and walking around through his dizziness, helping Coran the best he can. He’s taken first aid classes before, it was a requirement at the Garrison, but his head aches and he worries he’s forgotten some important essentials. 

So he pays extra attention to Coran’s instructions. 

His hands are on autopilot as they wrap up a burn on Pidges arm. Her lips is mashed under her teeth, clearly biting back a noise of pain. He wants to tell her that it’s okay if it hurts and she shouldn’t hold back, but the words won’t come and Pidge will just lash out anyway. She’ll apologize later, but at the moment it’s not worth it. 

The Galra attack had been a surprise. It’s always a surprise, but this time it was like a super surprise. Like making a pact with your best friend not to hit you with a ball during dodgeball and having them betray you in the second half of the game. Except with a lot more blood. 

They were bringing supplies to a recently liberated town. The aliens were small and furry, wide eyes like a bad anime character drawing, and three fingers to each hand. Their furs were bright purple and green, which seemed strange for a desert community, but Lance didn’t want to comment on it. 

They had just gotten the last supply crate out of yellow when the Galra attacked. Guns blazing and no sign of warning, the Paladins had scrambled to defend the town. Which they were able to do, driving the warriors and Sentries away, but not without getting banged up a bit. 

Without their lions they were more vulnerable than they were used to and it showed. 

“Not too tight?” Lance asks, feeling like he was speaking around a mouth stuffed full of cotton. Pidge nods, biting her lip harder. “Stop biting,” he sighs as he stands up, “you’ll make it bleed and the salve stings, trust me.” 

Pidge narrows her eyes up at him, but reluctantly lets go of her lip. The indent in her skin looks painful, but at least it’s not bloody. 

He sighs and rolls his shoulders, taking a look around the infirmary. He already helped Coran put a makeshift cast on Hunk’s arm, who gives him a thumbs up with his good arm when they make eye contact. Lance can’t help but smile. At the moment, Coran is tending to Keith, who had been shot in the shoulder, but had pushed Lance away when he offered to treat him. Rude. 

Keith still won’t look at him, but at least he looks uncomfortable with Coran treating him. Not that Lance wants him to be uncomfortable, just that he doesn’t want Keith to reject Lance treating him because he’s Lance. Maybe  _ reject _ isn’t the right word. 

Ugh, his head is pounding. How long does it take to restore power?

Off to the side of the room Shiro is leaning against the wall, watching the Paladins. Lance can’t tell if he got away with not getting as hurt because of his super arm or if he’s trying to grin and bear it because he’s the leader. Either seem likely. Oh well, he better head over anyway. 

“You good, Shiro?” Lance asks even though he’s sure he won’t get a straight answer. Shiro raises and eyebrow at him and he holds up a roll of bright pink bandages with a grin. “Come on, don’t be shy, your wardrobe could use a bit of color.” 

Shiro huffs out a laugh, but his shoulders are still tense. “Thanks, but I think I’m good Lance. What about you? I haven’t seen you sit down since we landed and you’re looking a little…” 

Ah, Shiro. Forever the leader with not break. 

“It’s okay, Shiro, I know I look horrible.” Lance shrugs. “Can’t be pretty all the time.” 

“I was going to say hazy. You look like you’re going to topple over.”

“Ah, I’m fine. Coran said it’s not really a concussion, so it’s not like I’ll die or anything.” 

The joke doesn’t land, but it feels halfhearted at best, so Lance can’t blame Shiro for not laughing. Instead his expression hardens and he looks down at his feet. Lance’s stomach flips with anxiety, he didn’t mean to make things  _ worse.  _

“Hey, uh, are you okay? I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

“I’m. Fine.” Shiro huffs out a breath, deflating into himself. “I just don’t like seeing you guys get hurt. You’re all still so young and I just think…” 

This is out of Lance’s depth. He looks around the room, at all the other Paladins. Shiro’s right, they are young. Painfully young compared to everyone else they’ve met fighting in this war. In this moment he’s far too aware of it, more than he has been since climbing into Blue. He’s so young, but he’s not even the youngest, and that feels horrible. How must Shiro feel?

Lance wants to say something. Something to fix this. Maybe not fix everything, that’s impossible, but something to lighten the load on Shiro’s shoulders. At least make him smile. Really smile. 

“Paladins!” Allura’s voice calls over the intercom. “Power as been restored to the castle. Please report to a healing pod immediately.” 

All the breath leaves Lance’s chest in a rush, relief and regret rushing through him. 

Shiro does smile, but it’s not real. It’s a leader’s smile. “Thanks, anyway Lance.” 

At least he’s heading to a healing pod as he says this. All the Paladins are. Lance finds himself walking before he thinks to do it. 

_ Oh well,  _ he thinks as he climbs inside and cold rushes past him.  _ I’ll think of something to say to him later. I’ll think of something to help everyone. _


	12. Day 12: Uncle Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you miss out on a lot in space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i haven't posted here's klance

Time in space is weird. 

Everyone is pretty sure that they have the right Earth time. Maybe not to the exact minute, but Pidge is confident that she’s calculated the date exactly right. They’ve been in space  roughly 84 Earth days, almost three months, and if going through that first wormhole hadn’t somehow jumped them through time to, then today's the day. 

Lance knows everyone notices something is up. Not enough to actually ask, but enough to raise eyebrows at him throughout the day. He should be trying to smile and crack jokes and just  _ talk  _ like always, but no words ever seem to come out. Yes, no, answering questions directed to him. Otherwise he can’t think of a damn thing to say. 

Today they get off lucky, no blaring alarms going off about a Galra ship approaching or any distress signals from captured planets. It’s all quiet, a day off as Allura allows them to call it with rigorous group training in the middle of the day. Even during that he’s quiet, but he does his best not to let today throw him off. He does well enough so Allura doesn’t comment. 

Right now he’s skipping dinner, fairly confident that even though he knows it’ll worry the team, they won’t seek him out till tomorrow to see what’s wrong. He can handle talking tomorrow. This is all he can handle right now, the endless amount of stars twinkling through the window of the observation deck. He’s on his back, hands and legs spread out like a starfish, only instead of laying against warm sand it’s cool metal. A starfish too far from the sea. 

Sometimes Lance would find abandoned starfish near the road above the beach. Ones that were picked up by kids and left behind, too far for the surf to take them back. Lance would pick them up and return them to their spot on the beach. He knows that he never got all of them, it would be impossible, and wonders if he’s going to be one of the ones that doesn’t make it. 

He’s just about dozing, staring up at the stars with lidded eyes. He would love to fall asleep and wake up tomorrow, forgetting today even happened. He’s just about there-

And the door whooshes open. 

Lance has been a paladin for almost three months. That’s three months of fighting off galra, honing his shooting skills, and becoming a master of stealth. So, no, he doesn’t jump five feet off the ground when the door opens, and it doesn’t matter what Keith says. 

Calmly and cooly, Lance jerks around to the door, trying to wrack his brain for an excuse of why he’s here instead of at dinner. He’s expecting maybe Coran, Shiro, or even Allura if he’s lucky. They’re the ones that have to wrangle all the other Paladins into being anywhere near responsible, and skipping meals sounds pretty irresponsible. 

It’s Keith. 

Which causes Lance to choke on whatever excuse was ready to come out of his mouth. 

Keith is staring at him, a deer in headlights, like somehow  _ he  _ was the one that was caught and not the one that was doing the catching. His jaw is adjar, like was ready to spurt out some half-thought up excuse just like Lance before seeing who it was. His eyes are comically wide, like an owls, and Lance wants to laugh at how ridiculous all of this is. 

Instead he brings a finger up to his lips, a silent shush, and whispers, “you skipping dinner too.” 

Slowly Keith looks around the room, gaze guarded. He can’t think this a practical joke, can he? It’d be the worst one Lance’s ever pulled, and as the youngest sibling in his family he has a reputation to uphold. After scanning the room and seeing no one else there, he nods and takes a step in, letting the door behind him. 

Satisfied that Keith isn’t about to run out of the room first chance he gets, Lance turns back around and flops down, assuming the starfish position once again. Above him the stars haven’t moved. Really nothings changed, not until Keith sits down next to him. 

Okay, it’s not just next to him. It’s  _ next to him  _ next to him. Like Keith’s knee if just shy of touching Lance’s waist and if Lance really lets himself be in the moment he can feel the warmth coming off from Keith cutting through the cool metal below. Has he ever sat this close to Keith? This isn’t usual, is it? He’s not in some parallel universe where they sit next to each other and it isn’t something to freak out about, not that Lance is freaking out, he’s a calm and collected Paladin, it’s just that this isn’t normal  _ is it?  _

Keith doesn’t seem to notice that Lance is trying to figure out if the universe he woke up to is the same one he fell asleep in last night. He’s staring up at the stars, or at least Lance thinks so. From the angle he’s at, the curl of Keith’s mullet is blocking most of Keith’s face from view. 

“Why are you skipping?” 

It sounds like such an Earth question. Like he’s hear it back at the Garrison (if skipping was possible) or at his old middle school. A question whispered in boys bathrooms and between the aisles of the supermarket across from the school. It startles something in Lance, hearing it from Keith. 

“Not hungry.” Lance shrugs, trying to play it off as casual, but even he can hear it. The flatness in his voice. It sounds nothing like him and he hates it. “You?” 

“Not hungry.” Keith parrots with a nod. Silence settles between them before Keith breaks it again. “Hunk’s worried about you. Tried to convince Shiro to go look for you before dinner. Shiro thinks you need the space.” 

“We’ve already got plenty of space, don’t we?” The joke escapes before he can stop it and he fully expects it to crash and burn. He knows almost nothing about Keith’s sense of humor (a riddle he hasn’t been able to crack) and his tone isn’t right for the delivery. 

So he tries to hold his surprise when Keith tilts his head to look back at him with a half smile. “I guess.” 

“Oh,” Lance can actually feel his voice perk up as he sits up, “is that a sense of humor I detect? Where has that been these past few weeks?”

Keith’s smile flattens out just a little into something a bit more exasperated, but his eyes are still light. “Maybe if you were actually funnier more often I would laugh more. Hunk’s seemed to figure it out.” 

“Excuse me,” Lance gasps out, leaning closer to Keith so their shoulders bump, “are you saying I’m not funny?” 

“Well your jokes only land half the time, but you  _ are  _ funny looking, so-” Keith trails off, looking away. Lance makes an outraged noise and swats at him, which Keith deflects with a grin. This somehow starts a game of them pushing at each other, not hard enough to actually knock each other over, but enough to bring an actual smile to Lance’s face. 

“You know, you could work on your jokes too, that wasn’t funny  _ or  _ original. You sound just like my-” Lance doesn’t even cut himself off, the words just die in his chest. He can’t get them out. Instead he wheezes, like he’s been punched. Lance leans back, settling into the ache of the day. 

Immediately, Keith’s grin falls and he lowers his hands, reaching out but not touching Lance. “Sorry, sorry, did I-?” He asks, even though it had been Lance had been the one shoving. 

The question hangs between them. They sit there, Keith looking like he’s worried he’s accidentally hurt Lance, and Lance unable to think. He takes a deep breath, knowing he has to say something, he can’t just leave Keith hanging, and it all pours out. 

“M- My brother. You sound like my brother, Marco.” It comes out in a whisper, but the room’s quiet enough it could be a shout. “He used to always make those jokes at all of us, me, Luis, Veronica. He tried it once on our mom, but couldn’t go through with it. Instead he told her how pretty she was and she didn’t ground him, which we all thought was amazing. He- He’s the reason I’ve been avoiding everyone today. Well, part of it.” Lance lets out a weak laugh. 

Keith has let his arms fall into his lap and sat back, just like Lance. He looks like he’s listening intently, but also like he has no idea what to do. The deer in headlights look is just under the surface, but Lance can’t bring himself to stop. 

Lance’s voice is thick as he continues. “Today was the due date. I- I mean, I know babies usually don’t come on the due date, but this is the day and it’s all I have. Marco is the one who called me, when they found out the gender. A little niece, Camila after our mom. I- I was supposed to take a test after the call, but I bombed it because I was too excited. I…. I was supposed to be there. To meet Camila.”

The world around him blurs and his face is hot. Any other time he’d be mortified about crying in front of Keith, his rival, but today has been so draining that he’d cry in front of anyone who was here. It’s been building up all day, all week if he’s being honest. His tears are hot and salty and they feel like they’re encompassing his whole face. 

He should dry his face off, drag his jacket sleeve across his eyes and try to calm down. Crying isn’t going to solve anything and it’s probably just going to make everything worse. 

Before he can, he’s being pulled forward. His face is suddenly pressed into a rough, red jacket and black hair tickles his nose and cheeks. It already felt like his chest was being squeezed until he couldn’t breath, but somehow the squeezing arms that wrap around him loosen that feeling. 

He wants his Mamma’s hug. He’s getting Keith’s. 

Lance buries his face completely into Keith’s jacket, not caring about the tear stains that are unavoidable. He’s surrounded by the smell of the shampoo they all use, but somehow it smells more comforting than chemical like it does in the shower. 

Keith is radiating heat, and Lance lets himself fall into it, forgetting the cold metal beneath him. 


	13. Day 13: Starry Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a very special birthday present

For Lance’s sixth birthday he gets a telescope. 

It’s not too fancy or brand new, but it has its own stand and it actually works. The sides are painted a light blue that hasn’t yet faded and the metal is a dull, fake silver. Lance absolutely loves it and begs his Mamma to let him go out to the backyard and look up at the sky. He wants to see the moon as up close as possible and maybe he can see some of the stars too!

She smiles softly and tells him that she has a better place in mind to star gaze. 

For the second half of Lance’s birthday gift they all climb in the car. Lance isn’t allowed to sit in the front like he wants and he’s still squished between Veronica and Luis, but he is allowed to hold his telescope in his arms as they drive. 

Looking back at it, he’ll look ridiculously small in pictures of him clutching his telescope, like he’s just on the edge of tipping over. But his wide grin makes up for it. 

They drive  _ forever _ in terms of a six-year-old, so roughly ten minutes normal time, and stop on a part of the beach that Lance doesn’t recognize. The breeze coming off the ocean chills his cheeks and loose sand brushes against his sandaled feet as soon as he steps out of the car. He didn’t bring a jacket, even though his Mamma told him he should, but he knows that if he asks Luis will let him borrow his on the drive back. 

“Lance, give your telescope to Marco, he knows how to set it up.” His mother smiles down at him, raking her fingers through his still curly hair. “Veronica, didn’t you say you needed new shells for a necklace? Luis, you take her down to the surf. When you’re done Marco, why don’t you join them?” 

Veronica scrambles down the little hill before their Mamma finishes, Luis scrambles after her calling for her to slow down. Lance doesn’t notice as he hands Marco the telescope, watching the way the stand unfolds at the top of the hill. It looks very complicated and fancy, but so do a lot of things to a six-year-old. Lance hopes next time that he’ll be able to set it up. Maybe someday he can take it to the beach himself!

Marco twists the last screw in place and takes a step back, grinning when the whole thing doesn’t collapse. Mamma leans down to give him a kiss on the forehead and a thanks before he races after his two other siblings. 

“Okay, Lance,” she smiles down at him, hands on her hips. “What do you want to look at first?” 

“The moon!” Lance shouts with no hesitation, having already made up his mind on the drive. His Mamma laughs, soft and sweet, and leans down to position the telescope just right. When she pulls back to let him look he practically jumps on it to look through the lense. 

Seeing pictures of the moon and seeing it through a telescope are, to Lance, very different things. He never got goosebumps looking at a picture at the moon, but through a telescope? He feels like he can reach out and brush the tips of his fingers against it. Feel the grooves against his skin, dig into the craters. 

Slowly, with the help of his Mamma, he tilts the telescope around the night sky. 

The stars don’t look too different, honestly. They’re so far away, that a tiny, old telescope won’t make a huge difference, but it feels different. When Lance lays out on the porch, staring up at the sky, the stars feel so far away. Each a new place he’ll never see, never experience. Glittering just enough to make him want to reach for it and pluck it out of the sky. With his telescope, he feels different. A tug, in the pit of his stomach, leading him up. Like he’s just one step from walking around all those shining stars. 

Like one day he’ll take the step off the planet. 

Lance looks through the telescope, looking up at different parts of the sky, listening to his Mamma name constillations he finds. If everything were perfect he would do it until the sunrise chases the stars out of view. But soon Veronica finds all her shells and Luis complains his feet hurt and Marco has fallen into the water and his shorts are soaked.

So they pack up. Marco in front with a towel separating him and the seat, and three in the back, one with shells in her lap, another with shoes abandoned on the floor, and a final with a telescope clutched in his grasp. 

That night Lance will dream of stars. And in the morning he tells his Mamma he wants to be an astronaut. 


	14. Day 14: Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes important things are a secret, not because they're bad, but because they're just for you

There’s a book, pressed between the small space of Red’s pilot chair and the floor. With each planet it expands a little more, bit by bit, every time it’s taken out it’s harder to squeeze back in. It’s not an old book, but the leather is worn from sliding against the metal floor, and sometimes the edges of pages crinkle up as the book is pushed back into its place. 

Lance got the book on one of their first visits to an alien planet. It was presented as a gift, each Paladin got one, they were one of the few things these aliens could afford to give as gifts. Lance doesn’t know what the others do with their books, he’s never asked. 

The book used to live in Blue, in the exact same spot. The last time she opened up for him, after being accepted by Red, was to let him get some of his stuff he had stashed in her. Pidge clutters her room with junk, Keith doesn’t keep much stuff to be considered cluttered, Hunk keeps everything he collects crazily organized in the drawers of his room, and Lance stashes things that are important in his Lion. 

In this book is a record of almost every planet they’ve landed on. Some get lost in the hustle and bustle of being a paladin, sometimes they land on a planet but never leave their lions. Those plants have a special page at the back, a list of planets to go back to, if possible. 

Each page Lance has scribbled down the planet’s name and the date they visited. One each page is a flower, plucked away from the planet and pressed into the pages. Lance doesn’t know many of the flower’s names, only their planets. 

Some look more like leaves than flowers, some glow even when pressed flat, others have twisted stems that make them try to break the tape and bounce off the page. Each flower is completely different, specific to it’s world, specific to certain memories Lance carries. 

As far as he knows, no one else knows about the book. He doesn’t think Blue or Red would tell any other Lion or Paladin, and he’s never taken it out of a Lion except when bringing it to Red. It’s not exactly a secret in Lance’s mind, just something he wants to keep for himself. Something he doesn’t have to share. 

He wants to bring it home. 

Show his family. Give them some proof out the life he’s been living for several months. Flip through the pages with them, telling stories of how he got each one. Of the people, cultures, places he associates with each one. 

There’s a book, pressed between the small space of Red’s pilot chair and the floor. And it’s only taken out to add a flower, or to remind Lance that he is going home. 


End file.
